


“Evidence of intelligence as expressed through sexual curiosity in the giant squid”

by Darkerchild



Category: Original Work
Genre: Filming, Other, Tentacles, Underwater Sex, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 18:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19469632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkerchild/pseuds/Darkerchild
Summary: The evidence was extensively peer-reviewed





	“Evidence of intelligence as expressed through sexual curiosity in the giant squid”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DecoySocktopus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DecoySocktopus/gifts).



The blinking cursor in the email draft window taunted her. Nicole stood, naked, in her kitchen with her laptop propped on the counter. Sitting was out of the question for the foreseeable future, and clothing irritated the red and purple oval bruises the animal’s suckers had left over her entire body.

 _Please find attached_ , Nicole wrote, and stopped. How was she supposed to describe the video she was about to send to her peers, to people she worked with and respected, to people she wanted to gain the respect of and be accepted by? The thought of anyone, even a stranger, watching the video made her gag, but she was going to willingly send it to people she would (hopefully, if this didn’t implode her career) see everyday for the rest of her life?

She’d taken a grant with the stipulation that she had to share and publish _all_ research findings. If that funding was cut, the burdens of debt-repayments, and rent, and utilities, and actually needing a bit of food every now and then, would suffocate her within weeks. Nicole knew it was likely that the video would never find its way into any official publication, but the scandal of it would live on in Academic gossip for decades or longer –

“Did you head about the Oceanographer who filmed herself being raped by a squid?”

Which was a lie. Yes, she’d filmed the squid when it first rose up towards her. But for the actual event? The camera had been out of her hands.

She’d picked a place in the open ocean, three kilometers off the coast of Wellington, where fishing boats had reported repeated encounters. She’d made arrangements with such a boat to leave her alone in the water for thirty minutes, tethered to a GPS retrieval buoy. She’d wanted to know if the boats’ engines were causing the squid to rise to the surface or if they were a coincidental disturbance.

She’d felt it before she saw it. The pressure of water being displaced quickly. A rising swell. Then, the vast grey-keeled head with its single, pink-rimmed eye. It stopped less than a foot beneath her, staring at her. Nicole had seen pictures of the giant squid before. She’d even examined several corpses. But that eye…

Weeks later, and it was still burned into her memory. When she managed to fall asleep, the worst dreams weren’t of what the squid had done to her, they were of the way it had _looked_ at her.

Cephalopods were the closest thing to an absolutely alien intelligence a person could find without leaving the planet. That’s what had drawn Nicole to studying them in the first place. Squid and their relatives had existed since before the dinosaurs, since before mammals, or reptiles, or even land plants. They could see in colors humans could only imagine. There were documented cases of them making and using tools.

But the largest of the family, the giant squid, remained a virtual mystery, and that yard-wide eye that stared back at Nicole from the depths – it had the unmistakable gleam of recognition; not just the anthropomorphizing bias of a researcher who wanted her subject to be more in intelligent than it was. When she blinked at the squid, it blinked back.

Everything happened very quickly after that. The camera was in her hands, and then it wasn’t. She remembered being momentarily very concerned about losing the camera. Then the squid grabbed her.

Just one foot at first, trying to drag her down, but the tether connecting her to the buoy offered enough resistance to stop it from dragging her into the depths. Nicole knew the anatomy of a giant squid. Two long feeding tentacles tipped with bulky clubs for gripping food. Eight shorter arms for pulling food in towards a dangerously sharp beak, and, beyond the beak, a chainsaw like series of serrations called the radula. If the squid decided to take a bite it would be game over.

She struggled, and kicked. The arm withdrew, taking her flipper with it. Nicole swam upwards towards the buoy. The squid grabbed her again, both legs this time. It plucked off her remaining flipper, and seemed to examine it for a moment, before releasing it to sink into the abyss.

Nicole felt it examine each of her toes individually. Her heart pounded, imagining that, at any moment, it would guide her feet into its mouth. She grabbed onto the buoy tether and started trying to hauled herself upwards, but the squid weighed over a ton. The idea of being able to resist it was ridiculous. Even in her almost blind panic, Nicole knew this, but pure, animal instinct was telling her that she needed to get away.

She was out of her element, literally, and as helpless as a goldfish being held down by a cat.

The squid adjusted its grip, pulling her deeper, pining Nicole’s arms to her chest, and forcing her to stare at its beak. One snap and it would all be over.

She was so consumed with this thought that she didn’t initially notice the way the squid was only using half its arms to pin her. The other four were examining her wetsuit – specifically the cuffs at her wrists and ankles – and the way her tank and mask attached.

The arms moved. Nicole’s tank was detached, and her mask. She bubbled helplessly. Her immediate instinct was to hold her breath, but that was the one thing that had been drilled into her repeatedly during her dive certification that she must never do under any circumstances. She wondered if attacked by squid was a situation her dive master had encountered.

She was spun around. She couldn’t keep her orientation. Bubbles were up. She couldn’t breathe. She had to exhale. Never inhale. The squid arms were all around her and the water was so cold, colder than it should have been. Her chest ached. There was a ripping noise. Pounding in her ears. And then, just as blackness started seeping in, the familiar taste of rubber as her scuba mouthpiece was forced between her lips.

Nicole sucked in gratefully, not thinking about anything for a moment but the sweet, life-giving taste of oxygen.

Reality asserted itself harshly as soon as she was back to full consciousness. The squid had, somehow, removed her wetsuit. She was naked, and still pinned, and the squid had her underwater camera held between its two feeding clubs and pointed straight at her. She thought it must be a coincidence, but the recording light was activated and the squid moved the camera with purpose, always angling it to keep her in shot.

The squid prodded her with its free arms, running its thick tentacles over her vulnerable flesh. She felt its suckers attach and detach in momentary flashes of pain. The delicate tips of its arms examined her breasts, kneading them, before attaching suckers to her nipples. The pain of the pull was exquisite. Then the suckers detached, leaving dark bruises over her areola.

Other arms investigated every inch of her; her fingers, her hair, the curve of her sides, the crease of her buttocks.

The salt stung her unmasked eyes, so she closed them, trying to detach from reality, but she couldn’t get away from the sensation of the squid examining the most intimate pieces of her body. She could feel it parting her labia and pressing into her. The piercing pain of one, tiny sucker on her clit. A different, thicker tentacle pressing against her ass.

She bit down on her scuba mouthpiece, bubbles emerging in a torrent as she let out an instinctual scream.

The prodding tentacles retreated. The arms wrapped around her loosened, not enough for her to struggle free, but enough for Nicole to open her eyes.

She instantly regretted her decision.

The squid had repositioned her so that it could stare at her with its giant, knowing eye. Beneath that eye, Nicole could see its siphon emerging from its head, the thick, multi-purpose organ cephalopods used to squid ink, to propel themselves through the water, and to lay eggs.

The squid used its arms to propel Nicole towards the girthy tube. She struggled, but it turned her around and pressed her against it. It plunged into her pre-sensitised vagina, rubbing against her bruised clit. The water momentarily darkened. Nicole felt a pressing warmth. The squid had released its ink in her.

The entirety of the beast shuddered.

Then it released her completely. Nicole floated for a moment in confused terror. The squid pressed her filming camera into her arms, and then, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, departed for the depths.

Nicole had pulled herself to the surface and waited naked and shivering for the retrieval boat. Black and sticky ink clung in droplets to her inner thighs.

She’d initially dismissed it as an accident; a hallucination caused by lack of oxygen after a wave, or maybe a squid, had dislodged her mask.

Then she’d watched the footage. There was no denying the, surprisingly well-filmed, video-graphic proof. And now she was going to submit it for peer-review, and possibly have it published. She wanted to sink into a hole and cry.

Instead she pressed send, knowing that everyone would watch her shame.


End file.
